Blood and Chaos
by elvenbloodhound
Summary: Thannor is my OC elf from Middle Earth. He has nothing to do with the LoTR, the Hobbit and doesn't interact with any of the chars. While his lifetime runs parallel to the timeline and beyond, his story is his own. This piece is a short I wrote of him telling his mate Kyari, a Kitsune from modern day Japan, his life story. How they meet is another story. Cover Art Credit to Artist.


"Tell me about you," she said as she ran light nails from his temple back into his hair, "I only know the worst day of your life." He lay quietly in her lap staring at the half frozen rain rivulets running down the glass panes of the window. "I want to know _you_ Thannor." Her voice was a low purr as they curled together near the fire.

The abandoned hunter's cabin had been a godsend before the sky opened up. The early winter storm bringing cold winds and rain sluicing over the landscape. Chasing them into the relative safety of the wooden structure.

Setting up a rough camp near the fireplace, they looked at each other, deciding silently to sleep on the bedroll near the warmth of the fire rather than the cold and rather moldy looking bed. He built a fire from the stock some long ago hunter had left. They settled down, listening to the howl of the wind as it seemed to wail it's distress at not being able capture them.

She was a vision, the fire seeming to bring the soft strands of her hair to life. He still didn't understand how she had come to be in this place, how she had been drawn to him. His heart quivered in his chest at the thought of her not being in his life. The short time they had known each other had changed his whole life.

Four thousand years he been alive, most of it with little to no joy. Then _she_ had come, bringing with her a joy and love he had not thought possible, a completeness he only barely comprehended. His soul had responded first, his starving heart following with a swiftness he dared not question.

She had moved slightly, bringing him out of his slight reverie. He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, "What do you wish to know?" His eyes went to her violet ones.

She continued to stroke his hair, lulling him into a relaxed state, "As much as you are willing to tell." Her smile was gentle, "We have the time," She looked away for a moment to the window before her violet orbs once again fixed themselves upon his face. "We might as well talk about something while we wait for the storm to pass."

He regarded her silently for a moment, before sighing, "It is not a pleasant tale Kyari." He looked away from her into the fire, his eyes shadowed as he watched the dancing, shifting flames. "And quite a long one." It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her. It was more that he had not had anyone interested in knowing him in that way since Tari.

She remained quiet, stroking his hair, waiting for him to either begin or not. When she didn't say anything more, he sighed again, closing his eyes as he began to speak.

"I was born in the autumn, though I do not know the exact day. My parents were killed by orcs as they and some of their kin travelled the wilds. How I survived the attack was unknown, but I was found amongst the rubble and dead by humans who brought me to a town now lost to time. I was given at first to be raised by a kind woman named Maerwyn, who had lost her only child and husband to a fever. Since she was a craftsman in her own right and lonely, she took me in without hesitation."

He smiled as he thought of the woman he had called mother. Soft brown eyes, filled with kindness and love, and a mass of rich auburn hair were the only memories he now had of the woman. "I have fond memories of my time with her, however she had had the same fever that had claimed her child. It weakened her, and she was ill many times during my childhood. She died during the winter of my tenth year." His heart contracted painfully as he remembered those sad days, the loneliness of a child who had lost the one person who loved him without reservation.

"The townsfolk after some conferring placed me next with the town's blacksmith. His name does not bear repeating. While he was not cruel, he certainly did not love me. To him, I was nothing more than a second set of hands." He paused for a moment the image of the man entering his thoughts, tall and dark with a hard glint to his blue eyes. He had been tall, Thannor himself only passing him in height toward the end of the man's life.

The visions shifted, the long ago forge coming to life behind his eyes. The long hours of labor, the heat and the smell as the man trained him in the art of the smith. "He did teach me all he knew. The only time he showed any emotion toward me was when he found I had an aptitude for the trade." He sighed then continued, "I stayed with him until his death. I was in my early thirties then, still very much a child to elfkind but an adult to the humans. Though i never knew what it was like to he a child. Most human children do not in the villages. They are put to work as soon as they are able and work until they die. It is the unfortunate way of things."

Thannor felt no pity for his lot as a child. He understood the way of life better than most having experienced it first hand, the raids and the elements all conspiring to smother the villagers and their simple way of life. "When my guardian died, I packed the small amount of belongings I had managed to acquire and left the town to search for my own place in the world." He fell silent for a moment, his eyes vacant as he got lost in his memories for a while.

He continued without prompting a few moments later, "I wandered for years, earning my keep as a smith, or any other odd job I could turn my hand at. I learned sword, bow and knife from a mercenary named Jera, who took me under her wing for a few years until she was killed in a skirmish on a job... a stray arrow." His smile was sad as he remembered the woman, wiry and lean, with graying blonde hair and a jaded smile.

They had formed a friendship that went beyond lovers. They had been partners, sharing more than just a bed. She had taught him and took pride in his skill. For his part, he had defended her back and devoted himself to what she taught him, until she professed him better than she. The look in her eyes that day still filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

His voice took on the tone of happiness as he continued the story. "After I buried her, i took what she had left me and wandered again. I came to a place where dwarves and men lived in prosperous harmony. Elves and dwarves having long been at odds at first did not trust me. It was when their homes and lives were threatened that they decided to place their trust in me. I stepped to help them defend their home from a goblin invasion taking great bodily harm in the process."

"It was then I was accepted, treated and taken into one of the families within the Dwarven city. Darrak was the name of the dwarf who took me in. His wife, Thia, tended my wounds. They took me in, made me a part of their family. I learned from Darrak, the Dwarven smiths being much more skilled than the human. He became the only father I have ever known. Thia, a new mother. Their children, my brothers and sisters. Many happy years I spent with them, learning both the way of the smith and also about the importance of family. I left the Dwarves after both Darrak and Thia had been laid to rest deep within the mountain tombs. My grief too much for me to stay, though I still have contacts within the Dwarven realms. Most of my fortune resides within their vaults." He smiled then, "They are the safest vaults in Middle Earth."

His thoughts returned to Darrak for a moment, remembering him as he had been in the prime of his life. His hand strayed to his hip where one of his axes would have been had he not removed them. His eyes went to where his hand found only cloth. Only a brief moment of panic rippled through him, his muscles tensing as his searching eyes caught the glint of metal nearby. He relaxed, Kyari still soothing him, her voice calm as she murmured to him. "You must not get lost in the memories Thannor. You're here with me. I won't let anything harm us here. It's safe."

He sighed, unused to the sensation of being safe and protected. His eyes lifted to meet hers before he spoke again, "My axes. They are my tribute to my Khagam, or father. He made the originals. They of course are long gone. Lost when… well I will get to that." He smiled, raising his hand to caress her cheek. The firelight sharpening her features. His eyes roamed her face, lingering on her lips for a moment before travelling back to her violet hues. She was so beautiful, a beauty that was more than just skin deep.

He smiled softly, continuing the narrative, "However, whatever incarnation my axes take, they will always bear his name, somewhere on them. They are identical to the ones he gifted me with all those years ago."

His expression had been light, but a shadow now entered his eyes, "When I left the Dwarven city, the desire to know my kind began pressing on me. I had come across only a few of my kin. And most of them shunned me as an outsider. I…" He chuckled, "I still dress more like a human than an elf, though I prefer finer fabrics and cuts than I did then. I wandered, my feet carrying me to the Plains of the Horse Lords and South to the White City of Gondor. Finally they carried me over the mountains one day in my 17 hundredth year. I came to a place called Imlardis, or Rivendell to most folk." He fell silent, his jaw working as _her_ face swam into view. The day they met, not long after he had arrived. Kylyrie… _so young and full of laughter. I was smitten the moment I saw you. Oh the merry chase you led me on._

The memory twisted, her vacant eyes and blood soaked form replacing the laughing and bright blue orbs. He violently shoved the memory away, stiffening in Kyari's lap as he turned his head so she could not easily see his expression. He reined in the emotion his voice thick when he spoke, "I was welcomed as kin and soon worked with the smith's, learning the Elvish form of armorsmithing. It was there I met her, courted her, loved her." He knew he didn't need to say her name, for Kyari knew of whom he spoke. She knew the entirety of 'that day', he was glad he would not have to tell her that part of the story here.

"I had so many plans then, a smith of Imlardis, raising our family, living the life I had been denied with my own kin. But _she_ had other ideas. She wanted to see the Dwarven city I had so often told her about. She wanted to meet my Dwarven family...to share with them our happiness. So we left the safety of Lord Elrond's protection. The city was not that far a journey that there should have been an issue. She was not concerned and told me i was a fool for worrying so much. I gave into her. Took her from her home and the safety provided therein…" His throat closed as he fought the memories.

The room seemed to grow even colder as Kyari held him. The light of the fire dimming as the onslaught of memory assailed whispered to him her understanding and repeating that it was not his fault. That it had never been his fault. His heart and mind disagreed… he quivered and closed his eyes against the tears that gathered.

When he finally gained control of the pain and sorrow he spoke once more. "After…" He blinked away the tears had built in his eyes, swallowing a few more times before he could truly continue. Kyari said nothing, only leaned down to kiss his temple, brushing her cheek against his head before resuming the soft stroking of her fingers through his hair.

"I found my way back to Imlardis, only to find I was not quite believed. Such magic had never been seen before. I… I suppose I should not blame them. What I told them must have sounded ludicrous. It was only the fact that my mind hummed with the lingering effects of it that they did not kill me I think. I took only what I could carry, destroyed any memory of us and left the last homely house. I have never gone back."

He fell silent again, his heart hammering against his ribs, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow. "I was in pain, excruciating pain all the time that left me wanting to kill as often as it had me curled into a ball. I wandered, half crazed for centuries. Finally gaining enough sanity to hunt the creature that had done this to me. In that time, I did not have control. I hunted when I needed to, took whores when I felt the urge. I was nothing like even the male you met. The madness consumed me to the point it was almost mechanical. All the while, some part of me fought, clawing its way back to the surface."

His hands twitched, the fine muscles in his fingers quivering. "My victims were not always evil doers during that period. I was truly the monster I have been called." He opened eyes filled with the regret he felt. "I spent many years hunting the filth that had twisted me in such a manner."

His brown furrowed, his expression darkening as he spoke of the wizard, "He of course continued his course of action, twisting and collecting in much the same manner he had twisted me and claimed the souls of my… wife and son. I followed, putting those he touched out of their misery if I came upon them. Usually, they took care of it for me, taking their own lives or suiciding on someone else's blade. Why I did not I will never know, there were many times where perhaps I should have."

She immediately kissed him. Her tails making an appearance as they wrapped protectively around him. "No Thannor, never say that. I would be lost without you." He ran his fingers into the soft fur, feeling contrite and guilty for voicing the previous statement.

"I am glad now that I did not." His eyes met hers and he smiled at her. She could see in his eyes he meant what he said and relaxed as he spoke once more. "There was a period of years where the magic disappeared, the trail cold, as if he left or had been killed." His brow creased, and he fell silent as if something had suddenly occurred to him.

His voice was tight as he spoke, "During those years, I began to hone my control. My hunts taking on form rather than the wild animal kills they had been. I became the shadow in dark alleyways, the knife no one ever saw. I learned from the dastardly, the assassins and the thief. I learned to move with great stealth and kill, maim and torture with precision. But in the summer of my 2100th year, the magic returned once more."

His brow furrowed with this memory, the ghost of the torment apparent in his features, "The pain of its return sent me into madness while I slept. I almost killed the chit I slept with that night, I did leave her scarred in both mind and body. That was the last night I ever slept with a body next to me." He looked up at her, finally giving her an explanation as to why he had put up such a fuss when they first met.

"I traced the beast quickly once I came back to myself. The sorcerer must have thought he was safe… that no one here was left to remember him and his ways. Either that or I was better at tracking him this time. Does not matter… I caught him, and I _killed him_." The last two words were growled, and vicious as he fisted his hands, his nails digging into his palms.

 _Killed him? Ha! Such a light word to use. You obliterated him Than. You first took his tongue and then proceeded to do things to the man…giving into the hatred and madness until his beating heart lay in your palm, until you tasted his blood._ He shivered in her arms, releasing some pent up emotion as she soothed him gently, "You did nothing wrong Thannor. You took vengeance where it was warranted. You released your loved one's souls and many others. Don't beat yourself up so much."

He turned his head, looking up into a face that held no judgment. Her eyes only reflected her love for him. His heart thudded hard against his ribcage, his vision misting for a moment before he looked away. Perhaps it was the amount of pain and suffering he had inflicted on the creature, but something had never settled after the sorcerer was dead.

"I was lost for a while after it was over. For I had lost purpose the moment I killed him. I wandered once more, taking jobs here and there. Gaining a bit of wealth with my skill as either hire sword or smith. I thought it was over, my hunting. I thought I could regain some semblance of normalcy in my life." He chuckled, the sound as empty and hollow as the wind howling around the cabin.

"The dreams began sometime after he was gone. I do not remember exactly when they started, but I know that they have come at intervals ever since." He fell silent, watching the flames flickering on the hearth.

His voice when it broke the silence was detached, "I joined another mercenary company. Figuring it allowed for my bloodlust as well as purpose. I was with them for several years before one night, the caravan I was protecting was attacked. Somehow, we were overwhelmed. They managed to capture me and a few others." He had always wondered if there had been a traitor in the company, but had not had the luxury or care to find out.

"We were taken east, many days journey out of lands I was familiar with. I was stripped, and sold into the household of one of the eastern King's of men." He looked up at her, his face a curious mixture of sadness and mirth, "You will like this part I think."

Her snort at this statement caused him to smile, the pain from the previous moment receding into the past where it belonged. "Ah, but you see, this was where I learned the art of pleasure, along with the arts of dance, music, even cunning. The harems of men are filled with intrigue and petty jealousy." He chuckled thinking back to the years there.

He moved slightly, the scars on his back suddenly feeling tight. "Though at first, I was not a willing slave. The King, wanted his prized possession, the Elf, complaint and passive. You have seen the scars I bear, a reminder of my unwillingness to bend."

He sat up then, looking out the window at the raging storm. The light was fading, an indication they either headed into night or the worst of the storm was yet to come. He had the sinking suspicion that it was a bit of both. The chill he had felt earlier was back, although this time it followed the force of the wind. The building creaked ominously under the violence outside the walls.

His eyes slid over the structure, trying to judge whether or not it would withstand the worst of the storm. His looked back to where Kyari sat watching him quietly. "Storm is getting worse." His mildly annoyed comment making her laugh, relaxing them both.

He had known the effect his story would have on him and thus her. He needed to pull back from it for a while before he continued. He pushed himself up off the floor, walking over to where the packs rested in the corner. He bent, loosening the straps and lifting the cover to pull out the package of way food he had acquired from the inn the previous day.

He brought it back to the fire, sitting with it. He faced her now, opening the packet and laying it between them. Turning he reached behind him once more, dragging the water bladder toward him. "You should eat." He said, grinning at her as he picked up one of the meat pies.

She looked at the food with slight distaste, then to the fire, shaking her head. He reached out, "Do not worry for me. I will survive. I always do." She looked at him, the wonder she felt at this statement shining in her eyes, "It has amazed me that you are still standing. To have been through so much. Your will to live is the strongest I think I've ever seen."

He grinned, "Some would call me insane or stupid, but you look at me with wonder and pride." He took a bite of the pie, shaking his head, "You truly are my match." His eyes met hers, his love for her radiating from him. He ate, offering her bites as he did, concerned that she didn't want food. He knew she didn't need it like he did, and he supposed he would eventually get used to it, but just now he wished for a bushel of berries to tempt her with.

After he finished the second pie and had stowed the rest back into his pack, he returned to her. He offered her the water skin before he drank from it. She took it from him, her fingers skimming his sending an electric hum up his arm and through his body. When she had drank her fill he did the same, setting the skin within easy reach.

He reached for her then, pulling her into his arms, settling her against him as he gazed into her face, "Do you wish me to continue? Or have you had enough of my sad tale?"

She reached up, cupping his face in her small hand, "I want to know all of you." He closed his eyes, the feel of her hand on his face filling him with ardent desire.

His lips curved as he continued his story. The sound of the storm faded as he looked into her face, his focus became her as he spoke, "For a period of about 60 years I did not bend to the yoke of slavery. I did not fight them, but I would not bow. I was beaten, raped and whipped. After these sessions I was turned over to the masters of the harems. One thing I will say, they did not leave me in squalor. I was still clothed in fine silks, my wounds were tended by the other slaves. After a few years, one in particular. His name was Jadhiran."

His smile softened further as he remembered the young man. "He was one of the lesser concubines, though I never understood why. He was handsome and virile with skills he would later teach me. His heart was kind and he truly was content with his lot in life. It was he who begged me to end my suffering. He begged me with tear filled eyes to bend just a little bit to end the beatings. I am sure you will realize he…"

His lips tilted up on the left corner, "In the harems, particularly the King's, there are many slaves that many are never called to the Master's chambers. So it was only natural that many within the harems formed relationships. Many more killed to gain favor or position in the ranks. The harem is a culture in and of itself. Many grow to love their lot in life under the right Master. A kind Master and you do not know hardship or hunger. A cruel one…" He made a face, "I will come to that. Jadhiran came to the harems in my 30th year. He watched for a while as week after week I would receive another beating, only to be dropped bleeding and sometimes unconscious into my chambers."

He chuckled as the memory of the night he had met the young man floated through his mind. "He crept into my chambers after the harem physicians had treated me, kneeling next to my bed. He looked me over and then asked me why." He recalled the look in the pale green eyes, curious but filled with sympathy. "When I did not answer he left. I had found the dreams and the madness were forestalled because of the bodily pain I endured, but how did I explain that to anyone. Night after night the boy returned, asking me why, checking that my wounds were well tended."

He settled back, pulling her along his body so that she settled against him. Her form molded to his, her tails covering them both in a blanket of comfort and care, "You loved him." Her words were soft, her tone held surprise, but no jealousy.

He relaxed slightly sighing, "I did…as much as I could at that point in my life. He never complained, even though I tended to be cold to him. He was the only person who I loved who I did not harm in some way. I do not know if he ever understood why I would not allow him to sleep in my chamber. He never complained." His voice was low and sad as he continued. "I was with him until he was murdered." He fell silent, his jaw muscles rippling as a hot spurt of anger slithered through him. He went on with the story, though his words at first were harshly spoken. "He was never called to the Master's chambers, so he devoted himself to making sure I rose in status amongst the concubines. He was the one who… helped me remove obstacles."

He chuckled thinking of the lessons and subterfuge… the periods of confinement and testing. "He was the one gave me the ability to control desire. To use it for both pleasure and pain. Not that the Master did not hone those skills as well." He chuckled keeping the image of the man in his head, young, smiling and full of life. "He was perhaps twenty when we met. His life as sorry as my own, yet he… he had honed skills that few humans could achieve. He passed that knowledge to me, with no hesitation."

The fingers of his left hand drew swirls along her upper arm as he held her. His head pillowed in his right. "He called me his greatest accomplishment and I told him he was daft…" He got lost for a moment, remembering. Only when the scene changed to the night he had been killed did he continue, "Within the harems, like I mentioned, there is petty jealousy and there are those who will stop at nothing to gain favor with the Master. Jadhiran was victim to such jealousy. It was aimed at me…" His brow furrowed, but most within the harem dared not anger or try to harm me. I was a prize by default of what I was. So instead of harming me, one of the others poisoned Jadhiran…" his next words were quiet, "had he slept with me…" He shrugged, trying to alleviate the guilt he still felt over the man's death.

"I was called to his chamber, only to find him wracked with a pain I could not stop. He begged me not to lose favor, told me to take advantage of my position. The last words he said to me was that one day it could be used to my advantage. He died in my arms." He brushed his lips against her hair, "I listened to his advice. I guess I figured I owed it to him. I rose up until I reigned the harem."

He laughed as he said this, it sounded so haughty, "I only mention it because of the events that would follow. The King died, his eldest son was made the new King. He of course sold most of his father's slaves, but not me, I was the family heirloom. To be kept as the royal slave for the rest of my life. This new King was a cruel man, more likely to cause pain to others, giving no pleasure other than that in which he took."

She looked up at him, "That didn't bother you did it?"

He looked into her eyes, his grin feral. "Of course not. It kept the dreams at bay once more. I was his favorite, once he realized he could torment me and I would derive as much pleasure as he did from the experience. I tolerated this new Master, because he kept the dreams at bay."

His mind now turned to the last years of his enslavement. His face he turned away from the light. "The new King was also a fool, his reign short as he was assassinated by one of his brothers, who was even worse. His first action was to call for me. He did far worse to me than any previous Master had. I realized at that point Jadhiran had been correct. I would need all my skill and a bit of my darkness to free myself before I was killed just for being alive."

"He let the growl come as he began to recount the last moments he spent as a slave of men. "He called for me one night, drunk and in a foul mood. I was brought before him and he began his foul game. One of brutality, but I had been having the dreams."

"I met him this time, not as the tame slave, but closer to the man you met. He delighted in the change, honestly it was the most stimulating encounter we had ever shared. However, as we neared the climax of our joining, my fingers closed around the hilt of his dagger. You can guess the next moments. When it was over, I was covered in his blood and he lay dead."

His lips were curved into a twisted smile. "I fully expected that my life would be forfeit. I waited for the guard, was taken into custody and thrown into a prison cell. I waited for the judgement I was certain was coming, except when I was called before the new King I was lifted from my knees, my shackles and collar were removed. The new King had no love for his brother, having been the butt of his cruelty once too often. So when I killed him, I unwittingly gained favor with the new King. I was offered my freedom as payment. I was dressed and given weapons and supplies and I breathed free air for the first time in over two centuries."

He sighed, reliving the moment as she lay nestled in his arms. He now lay quiet, holding her, feeling her body against his. He smiled, thinking about the first moments of their meeting. His blood saturated form, her reaction to seeing him that way. He pulled his thoughts back to his past.

"I was free to wander these new lands and I did, learning from the culture that had produced Jadhiran. I learned many more things from the Easterlings before I made my way back into the lands I had been born from. It was when I finally drew near the forest of Lothlorien that I met a young woman. She was an orphan, had been wandering for a long time as I had. She was a spitfire, saucy loud. I would have sworn she was a human had I not been easily able to see the features and ears of the elf." He chuckled, thinking back to the night he had met Elentari. "She had started a bar brawl, and then sat back and watched as the men beat themselves to a pulp. I approached her. She took one look at me and bade me sit. We left that tavern, and over the next few years learned all there was to know about each other." He chuckled softly, "Never did sharing a bed enter either of our minds. We swore a blood pact, binding us together as siblings, and thus I have my sister."

He yawned, "There is not much else to tell really, our path finally led into the realm of Lothlorien. She entered into the ranks of the Galadhrim and I took my place amongst the smiths. The rest I have already told you." He felt drained, but contented laying there with her in his arms, a knot that had been within him loosened and unravelling in the telling of his story.

She turned in his arms to face him, her fingers touching his face with gentle strokes. "I still cannot believe you survived all that has transpired Thannor. So many times you could have given up. So many times you could have been killed, yet you are here… with me." He closed his eyes, listening to the tone of her voice.

He sighed, "I knew that this was not all life was supposed to be. There was a part of me that always had hope that I would find myself in a place where pain and loss did not rule me." He held her tightly against him. "And one day, my hope was given back to me when a beautiful flaxen haired woman was drawn to my killing ground. One who did not look on me with fear and disgust, but one who understood the demons I live with and one who keeps the pain at bay." He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own, "I am one very fortunate man Kyari." He murmured as he rolled to cover her with his form.


End file.
